My Best Friend's Boyfriend
by berryboom
Summary: She dumps him through a text message all because she didn't want to be his reject. "I'm giving you what you want. You better take care of it. Or else." [SasuSaku] [three-shot]
1. Sakura

**Disclaimer: Copyright Masashi Kishimoto.**

* * *

The dusty doors of the airtight, small shed in the far, _far_ back of the building, unused by almost everyone, untouched for a year, open with a tarnished squeak.

Dust motes fly in the air where sunlight caresses the dark: slowly, vision adjusts. There are stacks of boxes with fine, filmy layers of dust coating them in a corner, along with an old, broken broom, a filthy mop, some grim-covered tools, baskets with sticks of bamboos torn out of the arrangement, rags, and an overturned plastic chair.

Cobwebs stretch along the ceiling and the door, and a lone spider dangles from the center of the shiny, sticky grey threads of the net.

All that unhygienic aura and cramped space doesn't matter to them.

In one spare corner, along the wall, a fair-skinned young girl is stretched, her legs sprawling and one stiletto heel poking the plastic chair; she is moaning and gasping with obvious pleasure that shows through the blush on her cheeks and a slight grin.

Her hands dig in the bowed dark hair of her companion, who sits coiled below, making low, smooching noises, his face buried in her large bosom.

They look up—shock and embarrassment flitting across the girl's face, and mild surprise on the other's—at the opening door and there's a profound silence.

Which is broken as the boy smirks beautifully and smugly—his face white as polished limestone, and eyes like two flat black obsidians—and greets.

"Hello…Sakura."

_Let the ground open and swallow me up._

* * *

**MY**

**BEST**

**FRIEND'S**

**BOYFRIEND**

_By berryboom_

* * *

"He's gonna buy me those perfect black pumps I asked him, and then we're going shopping—I really, really need that sexy red minidress Ten told me about, and that awesome lilac tutu skirt…Plus, he promised he'd take to me to that fancy restaurant, so I know it's gonna be a great weekend—and then it's my birthday party—"

"Do you really think he'll spend that much bucks on you?" Sakura asks cynically, her eyebrows raised high as she breaks in her best friend's constant ramblings and confident gossips—frankly, which have been continued for half and an hour.

Ino turns around to look at her, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement and confidence.

"Of course. Sasuke Uchiha's _rich. _And he'smy _boyfriend_, after all."

Almost everyone in Konoha knows about the handsome hunk Uchiha Sasuke, consisting mostly of diehard fan girls that are more annoying than loyal. His fame and growing attraction has been passing down since his freshman year at the local academy, before which he had remained homeschooled.

He depicted a silent brooder's image when he first transferred to the Leaf Academy and that same silent-bad-boy look in his hooded, black eyes, his haughty pace, his expressionless façade that seems purely pensive, has won over numerous female faces.

And that doesn't mean the Uchiha is very anti-social. Yes, he is communal. He is communal with very _few_ of his admittedly close acquaintances—Naruto, Sai and Shikamaru for instance—and quite a number of females—at least _one_ at a time.

No, he isn't conceited, everyone says. He just likes to hang out with girls when he's bored, and he hasn't yet found out any girl he would especially like to be his steady girlfriend, except the rare, fortunate three.

Sakura can even count them: three. Sabaku No Temari, Hyuga Hinata, and now Yamanaka Ino.

The two rejects are now coupled with Shikamaru and Naruto. Looks like he fancies sharing.

Sometimes he's pitiable: he's unlucky in love, even when he uses the legion of females at his feet that fancy him getting into their pants, and who doodle his name over their stuff in bright pink, or even those who genuinely admire him to the level of infection.

Sakura even knows for a fact that Uzumaki Karin, the number one fan girl of the Uchiha who can't look at him without undressing him with her eyes, keeps a prized, damage proof jar which contains a few strands of the Uchiha's dark hair.

Where on earth did she obtain such a treasure, was very explicitly explained by the orthodox statement: "He is damn awesome in bed. Get it?"

Okay, so he also likes doing the deed besides hanging out. And this Sakura had found out in a very embarrassing incident in which she stumbled upon the happy couple in the abandoned shed in the back of the university—well, it hadn't exactly heated up to _that_ extent, but Ino's expression was sure to confirm that it was coming.

And that's a month ago. Yamanaka Ino is the Uchiha's girlfriend. At the moment, or perhaps forever—erm, until specialization, maybe, unless she was intent on marriage as well.

Sakura manages a tiny smile at Ino's bold declaration. "Of _course_ you are." She refrains from adding that if Ino continues emptying her boyfriend's wallet every time they get together, even if he's wealthy, he will soon add her to his list of rejects.

"Okay, so…you're going to come over early on my birthday evening, help me with the decorations, ne?" Ino asks, slinging her pretty red wool bag over her shoulder and pushing back her long, sleek ponytail of fine, blonde hair.

She really is beautiful. No wonder the Uchiha—

"Yup, I'll be there," Sakura confirms. She flips out her glossy Blackberry, and checks for a missed call. There is her mother's, who is supposed to take her out for a dress hunt for Ino's birthday party.

"Mom's outside," She tells the blonde, and they both walk down the steps of Leaf University.

Her mother's pink convertible has the top down, so she can see the blonde bun and the high neck in front of the steering wheel from the back.

She can never really understand how the combination of blonde curls and natural silver, of her mother and father respectively, resulted in the bizarre shade of red in her hair that is actually mistaken as pink.

But that's just another story.

As they say, _think of the devil_—

He leans against his hot black Mercedes, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his blue jeans, his black T-shirt stretched snugly over his torso emphasizing his muscles, and his car is parked just behind hers.

—_and the devil shall appear._

His face is the color of marble, and his onyx pools are striking against the complexion. His hair is dark and some locks escape to his forehead, even when he has a baseball cap thrown casually over his head.

At that moment, he looks insanely cute. But then again, he always does.

Sakura always admits that, but she is quite sure she harbors no feelings for the hunk.

"Heya, Sasuke," Ino calls boldly as she reaches him. Sakura follows her slowly, given that her destination is also in that direction.

As he holds out the passenger door for his girlfriend, his gaze settles on the rosette's—emeralds collide with obsidians, and he smirks.

"Ino," he says in a greeting, and then, "Hey, Sakura."

"Hello." She feels awfully uncomfortable as the Uchiha looks at her, and she drops her eyes, fiddling with the strap of her bag, thinking it impolite to just leave like that.

There's something in his eyes—she has seen it before in that mortifying incident—that is close to smugness, but not really it. It's kind of creepy.

He nods, breaks the connection, and then slides beside Ino in his car.

Sakura walks dazedly to her own.

* * *

"It looks great."

"Are you positive?"

"Anything done by the two of us is great," assures Sakura. It is 23rd September, Ino's birthday evening, and the house looks great.

Ino's house is by the beach, and the deck opens to the shore. They have themed the party according to it: speakers hidden behind large amount of driftwood, a long table in front of the terrace beside the deck which has a scattering of seashells and is laden with food and drink, surfboards lean against one wall, with a bucket of beach towels.

There will be a barbecue on the beach, which also serves as the dancing spot.

In short, the preparations are so perfect Sakura wonders why Ino is even a little bit concerned.

* * *

Sakura positions on the terrace idly, holding her first glass of champagne. She has already given Ino her present—a sparkling yellow halter top. As a coincidence, her boyfriend has presented her with beautiful yellow earrings that quite match—and which he put on her ears himself, so Ino has gone inside to wear the matching top with her sarong.

Ino is extremely lucky.

She sits engrossed in watching the throng of dancers bopping to the new song, and doesn't notice that she has company, until a hand taps on her shoulder.

"Sakura?"

She snaps out of her thoughts and nearly falls off the terrace when she sees the handsome Uchiha standing beside her, his eyebrows arched, and a bottle of beer in his hand. His expression is expectant, so Sakura takes a deep breath, trying to steady her thudding heart.

"You—you scared me," she says, feeling a bit in control.

He doesn't look like he's about to apologize, but his lips pull up in a mocking smile. "I'm not going to eat you."

Sakura snorts. "I know, dude. And yeah, Ino's inside, if you were searching for her."

He looks a bit surprised. "I didn't come here for Ino. I want to talk to _you_."

There is a short while of silence, but it seems long, as the two stare into each other's eyes. Sakura sees no smugness in his eyes this once.

"And why would that be?"

"I wanted to ask you something," he says gently, and Sakura observes the guy in him who could seduce any girl with just one soft look from under his lashes. It was there.

"Go on."

"Will you accompany me tomorrow to a formal party I'm invited to?" He asks slowly and delicately, and for a moment Sakura doesn't even realize what he means.

Gradually realization dawns on her as she stares into his hooded, expectant eyes. She feels a sense of nervous dread creeping in on her. "What about Ino?" She blurts out unthinkingly, and somehow that sounds like consent.

"She won't have to know," says Ino's boyfriend. "So is that a yes?"

"_No_!" Sakura shouts with a sudden and fierce bolt of anger that erases the dread inside her—the dread of having to choose. There _are_ no choices to choose between.

She shoves at the Uchiha's chest hard, not a least bit interested in how the muscles felt under her hand, so that he is pushed backward.

She doesn't see his bewildered, wistful expression as she turns around and storms off towards the refreshment table with the empty glass clenched in one hand.

* * *

Her head pounds heavily, as if it is being pounded by a dozen hammers, and she feels dizzy. She knows she shouldn't have drunk that much—she can estimate at least nine glasses at regular intervals that she had tonight, plus the one that is half-filled in her hand.

She staggers from the refreshment table, the drink still clutched in her hand, and searches for Ino. The barbecue has already started, and Ino and a couple of girls are turning over sizzling meat on the grill. The aroma of beef is intensifying, but Sakura isn't a least bit attracted towards it.

She decides to tell Ino and get home; she is feeling dizzy and feverish, but then she thinks: _what have I got in home? Father's dead and my mom is away at some cocktail party with her clients. _

Her head is throbbing, and she suddenly feels foreign among the horde of dancers, the clusters around the refreshment table, the couples walking hand-in-hand along the coastline.

_Why are all of them, laughing? What do they have to laugh about?_ She wonders as she gazes at her best friend, her face sparkling with joy and excitement, chuckling with all those who surrounded her.

_Don't they see how everything is on the verge of going down the tubes? _

Her thoughts are incoherent, jumping from one subject to another.

_I'm lonely_.

And that is why when she looks at the mass of happy people, she only sees girls as whores and boys as liars: and she feels like the stranger among that undignified mob.

She doesn't know when the sand brushes against her face and her hair sprawls all around it. Her shoulders move of their own accord, tilting her hazy vision towards the star-flecked sky but the scene is blocked by something more stunning.

She encapsulates a face in her vision: pale as the moonlight to erase all the loneliness, with dark obsidian orbs that seem to fill in the world, a sharp, angular nose, and a flawless, full mouth—

_No_! She heard herself saying.

_Is that a yes?_

_No!_

"Sakura, you okay? Should I get Ino to call your—"

Still in her dream, she leaps and presses her lips against his.

* * *

_To Be Continued._

**A/N: Please review. **

**berryboom **


	2. Ino

**Dedicated to the reviewers, the followers and the ones who favorited the story. Plz review, too. **

* * *

**MY**

**BEST**

**FRIEND'S**

**BOYFRIEND**

**ii**

* * *

Ino is in mere shock.

She has expected something like this to provoke her inhuman fury, perhaps hurt her as well, to make her hot—_other than her usual hot, of course_—with vehemence, but seeing it _this_ way…it just leaves her with a kick in the teeth.

Sasuke Uchiha is merely a wanderer, a pretty one as a bonus, and deep down she has always been afraid of something like this to happen.

And watching _her_ own best friend take _her_ boyfriend for a ride…she has never anticipated that.

Ino has always expected the roles to be reversed.

From the day she had introduced Haruno Sakura to him, she had seen some sort of link in there. A one-sided link, sure.

Sakura would talk to Ino, and mumble answers to him if he conversed. They knew each other best, and Ino had been one hundred percent sure the girl wasn't interested in him like all the others.

The Uchiha, however…he looked at her, and in his eyes there had been desire. Not a sinful desire as lust, but unsullied and genuine.

He wanted her.

_Wants_ her.

But when he and Ino were alone together, it was fine. It was like another part of the Uchiha, the seductive one every girl fawned over.

Perhaps it would have been better never to introduce Haruno to him…but she would still be bound to meet him someday. Best friends…Ino and Sakura are a twosome. They stick together at most.

_Sakura_ is not supposed to begin this.

She is standing up on her knees on the sand, her light pink—okay, red, she always says—hair cascading down her shoulders and her head tilted up high. Her eyes are open and glassy as she pushes her mouth on his.

Sasuke's expression, nevertheless, is comical. He is staring at the rosette with wide black eyes, with bewilderment and—_is it possible?_—slight fear. Oh come on, no _one, _not even the_ Uchiha, _would be surprised if a girl came hurtling down to him and started swapping saliva with him.

It is abnormally normal, but only if that girl isn't Haruno Sakura.

But deep down, he is pleased, Ino knows—

Her eyes flit to the palette of barbecue beef she has all but forgotten in her hands—she is supposed to give that to her mother on the second floor.

But she doesn't budge. She watches as Sakura finally drops her hands from his arms where she was clutching them tightly and—a part of Ino's mind notices that she has an almost empty glass of champagne in her hand—draws back from him.

She walks backward, as if there is some sort of predator advancing on her.

But Sasuke stays where he is, now definitely fearful. His eyes look anywhere but at Sakura, around the beach, at the house…he is searching for Ino.

Ino darts behind the huge mount of driftwood that they had piled beside the house, strewn with tiny lights and hiding the speakers, and bends on her knees to shorten herself. The sand hisses beneath her feet, but that's a quiet enough sound. He doesn't notice.

Neither does anyone else on the beach. They are all busy partying.

Sakura stands there, rapidly breathing. And then all of a sudden, she huffs and scurries away into the house.

He just remains staring at the empty spot where she had been.

Ino slides down on the sand behind the driftwood with more of the hissy noise. The speakers blare with music, loud, boisterous, and she has a sudden urge to smash her fist in to it and maybe damage its system.

Instead, she just slaps her palm to her face.

(_Way to spice up my nineteenth birthday, Haruno_.)

She doesn't know what she is feeling.

* * *

_Gimme a break_, Ino thinks.

Asuma-sensei, the Biology professor, is lecturing about something—introduction to anatomy something, that's what he has written on the blackboard.

Ino never takes any notes during the lecture. She is pretty good at memorizing the crucial stuff and then she grabs the full-fledged, neat and accurate notes from Sakura—because she is a genius, in any case, after Shikamaru, no denying—and leafs through when needed.

Nevertheless, today, she has heard all but nothing in the whole lecture.

She glances at her watch. There are still fifteen minutes. She sulks.

But wait, there's something better than sulking. What she has been doing for the past half hour—look at Sakura and Sasuke.

Sakura's head is bowed low, her hair framing both sides of her face in the form of curtains, and her notebook is open beneath her. She sits only a couple of seats away.

Ino can see easily that the page is blank. Her pencil is poised on the paper, yes, and she has been pressing it so hard that the tip has broken.

She is totally oblivious.

And the Uchiha—you can easily guess—has been staring at her for the past thirty minutes to the extent that it is starting to feel creepy.

His onyx orbs are fixated on her head, on her pink—red—tresses, as if he's trying to see through the curtain of hair.

Even a fool can see how much longing, frustrated exposure and—_again, is it possible?_—wistfulness in that black.

That look really wins over Ino's sympathy. Perhaps this is the second of the reasons that she isn't furious at all.

The first is Sakura being her BFF. And Ino doesn't know what to do about her BFF; certainly, punching through her mouth wouldn't do any good.

She flicks out her phone—the latest brand of Samsung 4, baby—and texts.

_**Sak if u don't start taking notes this very sec im gonna knock u senseless after class**_

She watches as Sakura picks up her vibrating phone, and reads the text message under the curtain.

Then she takes a pen from her bag, tosses back her hair, and Ino can see now that she is paying attention to the lecture.

_(Wow that was easy_.)

And now Uchiha has his stare locked on her exposed face.

Her phone vibrates. She looks over at Sakura, and she is busy noting points.

The sender's number is saved as **Desperate Bitch**, and that can be no one else than the redhead Karin who can't look at Sasuke without undressing him with—

_**Hawtee staring at ur bff lmao **_

Damn right she is a desperate bitch.

* * *

Ino makes up her mind after she reads Karin's text.

She perfectly knows she would become the center of gossip if this continued—Yamanaka Ino's boyfriend hits on her best friend, and whatnot…they would all twist the truth in such a way it would become a lie—and she doesn't want it.

She isn't so pathetic. And she _never _allows insult to her self-esteem.

Even if it would hurt, she would do the right thing.

What is right in _her_ opinion.

"Oi, Haruno! _Sakura_, wait! I have to talk to you!"

The rosette stops where she is, and slinging her white bag across her shoulder and brushing back her hair, she retraces her steps and meets Ino.

"'Sup?" She is trying to seem casual. "You want the notes?"

"No," Ino says, and she realizes her teeth are gritted. She is afraid the snap is near, the one that wouldn't come when she had seen them at the beach. She swallows back the urge to draw back her hand and smash it into the girl's pale, delicate face and maybe break her nose, it would be so damn easy—

_No_. This wasn't just a girl. This was _Sakura. _

"No. I don't want the notes, not now, anyway. I just want to talk to you about something.'

She drops her emerald green eyes to the floor and studies it. "Oh. About what?"

(_Playing the innocent! C'mon, Sakura, _you_ aren't supposed to do that_.)

"He should have kissed back, shouldn't he?"

Sakura looks up at her with wide eyes, her expression matching that of Sasuke's at the beach—_the beach, the beach_—wide, fearful eyes.

"It was an accident, Ino, I never wanted to…I didn't know what I was doing, I would never—"

She is pleading, and her eyes seem shiny, sparkling; at any moment she would burst into—

God. Ino hates seeing her cry, and that was exactly what she was doing.

"I know, Sakura," she says, and it is sharper than she intended.

"I'm sorry," she blubbers.

Ino manages a smile at her and cocks her head to one side. "I know. And I forgive you."

She leaves abruptly, before she can change her mind, and walks down the hallway towards the front doors. She has to go home by herself; she already knows Sasuke won't be there today, he'll be out with his friends.

She leaves Sakura bemused in the passage, even more torn than ever.

(_I know you like him, Sakura. Now you do. I saw it in your eyes.)_

* * *

As soon as Ino steps in her bedroom, she throws her bag onto her made bed, kicks back her black pumps—the ones _he_ had bought her—into a corner, and flops on the mattress on her back.

She studies the ceiling for a moment, stares at the colorful Day-Glo stars stuck at it, the ones that helped her sleep at night.

Then she whips out her phone.

**To**: _**Sasuke**_

**Cc:**

**Subject: **_**I'm dead serious**_

_Okay, let's do a little boyfriend-girlfriend talk, and take off your emo cover for a moment and be clear._

_I don't know why I can't be enough to you. I mean, come on! I always thought I was perfect. We are meant to be. I'll admit, I really liked you. Not like all those sex-loving girls all around Konoha, but in a genuine way._

_I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, because I'm over it. So forget about what I'd feel._

_I know you like Sakura, don't even try denying it. It's written all over your face in bold letters. You stare at her in a way you'd never at any girl. I sensed it way back, but I didn't want to believe it. _

_She's my best friend, and I know her better than anyone. It's possible that maybe she likes you back?_

_So, for your own sake, and especially for my sake—let's not forget me here—we're over._

_I'm probably the first girl to dump you, and maybe that's an honor. *wink wink*_

_It'll save me from gossip. And it'll make me feel better, like I'm doing the right thing. _

_I'm not dumping you for Sakura's sake. 'Kay? Cuz she'll think I left you for her and she'll be all upset and cry and blubber and I hate that. I just don't want you to become a source of breaking our lifelong friendship._

_AND there's another reason, I don't wanna be your reject. Ugh! I don't want _you_ to dump _me_, and then add me to your list of cast off girlfriends and set me up with your friends…Sai's left, now? Well, he _is_ kinda cute. But still…asdfghjkl_

_I'm giving you what you want. You better take care of it. Or else…asdfghjkl_

_KKK. You are taking pinky out __tonight, to a party.__ She better not resist._

_I loved being your girlfriend, I'll add for your benefit. It'll suck to go back to buying my own meals and dresses and stuff, but it's worth it. _

_Bye! Love,_

_Ino_

Her phone rings twice after five minutes. She snatches it up.

**From: **_**Sasuke**_

**Subject: Re: **_**I'm dead serious**_

_WTF Ino, are you joking?_

**From: **_**Sasuke**_

**Subject: (no subject)**

_You're breaking up with me through a text?_

**To: **_**Sasuke**_

**Subject: **_**I see Naruto has rubbed off on you**_

_FFFF NO I'M OBVIOUSLY DEAD SERIOUS AND I'M OBVIOUSLY BREAKING UP WITH YOU THROUGH A TEXT MESSAGE! Is that all you care about! Hmmph! Idiot! _

_Yeah. I am. And I'll tell you something, God it sounds so cheesy…but you and Sakura are meant to be the way you and me are not._

_Take care of her, 'kay?_

She lies on the bed waiting for Sasuke's response to that. Only when about ten minutes pass and he doesn't reply, she realizes it shouldn't take long to just read a text.

Maybe he had to use the restroom—

Her phone rings again, and it is a call. She picks it up and places the phone to her ear.

His voice is smooth like velvet and deep as he whispers from the other side of the phone.

"Thank you."

Yamanaka Ino smiles and hangs up.

* * *

**To**: _**Sakura**_

**Subject: **_**Be happy, babe**_

_Wear your best dress…the strapless sexy one with the cherry color. You're going out with Sasuke tonight._

**From**_**: Sakura**_

**Subject**_**: He asked me out just now**_

_Are you sure about this, Ino? If I'm the reason…_

**To: **_**Sakura**_

**Subject**_**: YES! Score**_

_Yep, totally. You're my best friend, Haruno, you ought to know that._

_I kinda feel cool, dumping _the_ Uchiha Sasuke!_

**From: **_**Sakura**_

**Subject: **_**So I said yes**_

_I'm glad. _

Smiling bright as the sun above, Ino sits comfortably on her plush towel spread on the warm beach sand, where it all started, and paints purple on her last nail.

* * *

**A/N: ****Do comment, if possible.**

**berryboom**


	3. Sasuke

**Since I was asked to do Sasuke's POV by few people, so I'm making this a three-shot. Please review since I wrote this for you. No pun intended.**

* * *

**MY**

**BEST**

**FRIEND'S**

**BOYFRIEND**

**iii**

* * *

Searching for a needle in a haystack is very, very difficult.

Toss and turn this bunch, sift through another, maybe even mistake some prickly straws to be the spike you're looking for.

Finding what _you_ want, what _you_ need, you get it the hard way.

Uchiha Sasuke likes challenges, yeah, but since the time he first started his journey to the Land of Love, he had been forced to admit that his luck was not on his side in this certain expedition.

He doesn't even remember their names clearly: the number is a long way from his memory. What he knows is that girls are _mostly_ those giggly-whores-who-annoy-the-hell-out-of-him-with-t heir-constant-ramblings and who were even worse than men in their lust and desires.

He takes them out, tells them they look really pretty, buys them meals, spends a romantic episode and goes home. He can't stick to one.

Sure, there are some he really likes, and he still remembers. He doesn't regret one little bit being the boyfriend of that gentle, shy Hinata of the famous Hyuga Clan—she isn't annoying, a plus point—and neither that perky senior Temari with her long limbs and the four blonde pigtails.

Turns out they are meant to be with the dobe and the lazy-bum. When he looks at his friends, he envies them.

It is in his first university semester that he meets Ino, and before he realizes it, they are together.

Ino is beautiful. She's like the sun—bright and lively, and so brilliant it feels like staring into light when you look at her pale face with the small tan, her long flaxen hair, and the shiny, slightly mischievous-looking aquamarine jewels placed instead of her eyes.

He falls for that look, and for a long while, he is euphoric; he thinks he's finally found the one he is looking for.

He meets every single one of her demands with mild amusement; he doesn't have to do much to make her happy; she is warm and blissful herself. She has an aggressive temper, yes; he finds it the hard way when he is behind schedule for their date one night.

It takes him about three months as Yamanaka Ino's boyfriend to realize he still hasn't found what he wants.

Ino is too strong for a girl.

He surprises himself when he thinks about it. Strength is something he has always admired, and having such an independent, beautiful, tough girl to love him should have been satisfying.

She has an independent, powerful thinking—she never needs help. She is aggressive, and making love to her is like a spark to gasoline: a fire that erupts and consumes him.

She's amazing in all aspects, but he knows he's still lying to himself. There isn't that feeling of being _home, _being with a part of _himself_—he realizes it when he delves deeper into his mind.

It is Ino who is the most unforgettable, and Ino who brought him to what he wanted.

_Her_.

* * *

_Haruno Sakura._

"Hey, Sasuke," Ino says, as she emerges from her house, holding a small handbag. She marches to his car and gestures with one hand to the girl following her. "This is Sakura, my best friend. I invited her along."

Ino never asks him permission for anything, and he's sort of used to it; this time, he's glad she doesn't.

The girl standing behind him has light red locks cascading down her shoulders that verge on pink, a very eye-catching color that seems more natural than dyed hair. She is slim and petite, a few inches shorter than Ino. Her skin is as pale as the latter's, and her eyes are a very vibrant shade of green—emeralds, shining and clear.

There is so much innocence, delicacy, and inexperience in those eyes that for a moment he just forgets where he is.

She seems so different than Ino—dainty, tentative, petite. He doesn't compare her with Hinata, because there _is_ no comparison.

She appears so different from all those sluts and self-interested girls he has hung out with, for a day, with the intelligence no less than a hooker—they fawn all over him and try seducing him.

He has always—_except for the three_—left them, repulsed and annoyed.

Uchiha Sasuke knows what he is looking for—the innocence which is absent in all those women, and which is clear and fathomable in these beautiful green eyes.

"Hi," she says softly to him, those blood red lips parting to make words, "If you don't mind—"

"It's fine," he replies automatically, and she smiles slightly.

As they drive to the most expensive malls of Konoha, Sasuke tries in vain to keep his eyes on the road. His vision always escapes to the rear view mirror, from where he can easily observe her.

The way she talks to Ino, the way her lips move, the way her face lights up when she laughs, the way she brushes back her hair with her white hands: he watches it all.

He can't get enough of it.

* * *

When Sakura finds them in the abandoned back shed of the university—God knows how she stumbled here, and God knows why he and Ino are doing the deed here in this shed; it just seems romantic to the blonde—he realizes his mortification was only momentary.

He remembers thinking he should go hell for it.

But the reason his embarrassment just vanishes in a spur of the moment and gets replaced by an automatic smirk—it's her face.

Her pale cheeks flood with color, a soft shade of red that matches her hair, and he has never seen anything more beautiful.

He forgets completely about Ino, who is half-sprawled in front of him, and watches as she murmurs an apology and backs away, shutting the door.

He realizes he wants to make her blush again.

* * *

The euphoria and joy of that moment is blighted with his bewilderment, surprise and short-lived fear.

After Ino rushes to her bedroom to try on her new shirt at her beach birthday party, he gets his chance. He wants to talk to Sakura, and perhaps spend one day out with her—but he is afraid of hurting Ino.

She's a strong girl and they still like each other, but he doesn't want her to think he replaced her with her own best friend.

He has seen what girl friendships are like.

"What about Ino?" She blurts out, seemingly astonished, as he asks her out to a party.

He hates himself for saying that, but he did. "She won't have to know…So is that a yes?"

She shocks him by shoving in his chest hard—of course it didn't seem hard to him, it was like being tickled—and his momentary surprise makes him back off.

"No!" She shouts, anger apparent on her face, and storms away, leaving him torn, stunned, and wistful.

He has never been _rejected_ before.

But that shocker is replaced by another when he finds her staggering on the beach, alone in the mass of people crowded around Ino and those in separate groups, and she falls.

He rushes to her, afraid that she has hurt herself, and cradles her head to lift it up.

She looks up at him, and her eyes seem dazed, glassy. He wonders if she is sick, and asks her if he should request Ino to call her home, but she doesn't allow him.

He wishes she had kissed him somewhere else, in another condition—so that he could enjoy it at most. He is befuddled to find the girl who just rejected him pushing her lips hard against his, and fearful that Ino would come by.

A part of his mind notices how she tastes—mostly of champagne, mixed in with sweets, vanilla, spice and cherry—a flavor so unique in itself.

Slowly, her eyes clear. And abruptly, she leaves him…so quickly as if the arms she was holding were made of burning acid.

She looks so terrified as she backs away from him and then runs into the house.

* * *

The next few days, Sasuke follows her.

He follows her after university, as she makes a trip to the Library, to the Mall, eats with her mother in some fancy restaurant, goes to a number of places he soon disregards, and then returns home late.

He remains hidden from her sight, and she never notices it. He sits in front of her house at night, indifferent to the passers-by who stare at him as if he's posing as a ballerina, and waits.

She doesn't come out.

He lounges there all night, more torn than ever.

* * *

After dismissal from the university, he decides to let Ino go home by herself, makes an excuse to his friends who are waiting for him outside, and returns to his mansion alone.

No one is at home. He walks to the back of the manor, to the rear gardens, and flops down on the grass. His cell phone rings the same instant.

After reading Ino's message with a mixture of emotions he can't fully identify, he realizes he had been underestimating the girl.

She is stronger and more independent than he had anticipated. She somehow knows that her boyfriend likes her best friend, and instead of lashing out on both of them she has taken a decision rationally.

It really is a blow to his ego. No girl has ever _dumped_ him, either.

But no girl has ever done that much for him.

**To: Ino**

**Subject: (no subject)**

_Are you breaking up with me through a text message?_

Her reply dumbfounds him for a moment: she is fully serious, and for a moment he thinks he has never known anyone as extraordinary as Yamanaka Ino.

On his fleeting whim, he dials her number and whispers thanks to her with the sincerity he had never shown to anyone.

* * *

After a long, long, moment—a minute that seems so prolonged he feels himself starting to perspire with agitation, she opens her mouth.

And says yes.

He doesn't believe it at first. "What did you say?" He asks, feeling dumber than Naruto.

"I said, yes," she repeats, and this time her lips curl up in an adorable pout which lasts for only a second.

She drops her eyes, then—and on impulse, he leans forward, his hand cups her soft cheek (something he has been wishing to do since they met), smoothes back the tendrils of pinkish hair, and kisses her.

She kisses him back, and he feels like he is finally at home.

* * *

Her dress is a soft cherry color, a shade quite darker than hair. It reveals her slender, white arms and legs.

He spares them a glance, and then grabs her hand. It is soft, warm and seems tiny in his, and he feels _right, perfect. _This is what he has been looking for.

Slowly, her fingers curl up to entwine in his own.

OW_A_RI—

* * *

_**A/N: it seems less drama and more romantic now EPIC FAIL V.V But anyway, it's done! Hope you like it, please comment! (Now I'm off to a hiatus.)**_

_**berryboom **_


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